Changing Himself
by teddylupin-snape
Summary: "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." -Leo Tolstoy. / Draco!centric, with Dramione, post-war.


**For the I Dare You Challenge (Draco Malfoy, "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." –Leo Tolstoy), the Represent that Character Challenge, and the Write All the Ships Challenge (Draco/Hermione)**

**All quotes within come from Leo Tolstoy's varied works.**

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"_**Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."**_

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His world seemed to be full of changes. Voldemort had gone, and his followers had collectively become recluses, many still in a state of disbelief at being proved wrong and defeated. Hogwarts was, more or less, back to normal, and open to those who had been in seventh year during the war, for an opportunity to learn properly and sit their NEWTs. Draco wasn't sure he could stand going back to Hogwarts, especially not after everything that had happened with his family throughout the war.

He spent much of his time alone, but he didn't have a problem with that, for the most part. The world was changing around him, just as it always was, and he sat by, figuring sooner or later, the world would come along and change him, too.

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"_**The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."**_

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Draco was in a numb state of shock for what seemed like years after the war ended. He carried on with his day-to-day live, but he was hardly ever _there_. He just was.

He decided early on that maybe, just maybe, if he gave it some time, things would sort themselves out. If he let everything go on the way it would, without disturbing the peace any more than he already had, it would all work out in the end, right? Just be patient, give everyone time to grow and move on.

If only he'd let himself carry on.

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"_**We lost because we told ourselves we lost."**_

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He could hardly bear to stay within the Manor anymore, constantly finding himself walking along Muggle streets and through small shops in the heart of London. He had been striving to desensitize himself from the war and its aftermath, and found that that couldn't be done within the Wizarding world.

He'd learned near the end that he was fighting a losing battle from his side. He was lucky to make it out alive, and he knew that. He wondered if things had been different, if he'd be in the same position as he was now. There were so many losses from both sides—he was lucky to not have lost anyone too close to him.

So much was destroyed in those brutal times, and sometimes you find yourself wondering if you're even glad you made it out alive.

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"_**War is so unjust and ugly that all who wage it must try to stifle the voice of conscience within themselves."**_

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Suddenly, just when he'd thought he could escape it, Draco found himself whisked back into the heat of the war. Hagrid was carrying Potter's body up to the crowd, and Draco could feel his breathing reach an unsteady pace as he looked over at the people he'd spent the last seven years of his life with. So many had teamed up with Potter to fight Voldemort, and Draco was just a clueless child shunted to the side with his parents.

"_It is over..._" The echo resounded in his head constantly. "_Harry Potter is dead._"

Draco woke with a start, soaked in a cold sweat, blankets wrapped tight around his legs from his struggles.

Their faces flashed across his mind, a continuous spur of scared-but-brave and worried-but-trying-to-stay-strong.

One face kept returning to the forefront of your mind, with a pained and desperate expression on her face, and you couldn't quite forgive yourself because you knew you were part of the reason she looked that way.

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"_**Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."**_

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Draco sent her a letter asking her to meet him at one of the Muggle cafés he frequented. He didn't expect her to come, but he sat and waited nonetheless.

He spent many long minutes staring out the window, wondering if he should just up and leave now—he didn't even know what he'd say to her if she came. By the time he'd sorted out his uncertainty, he saw her walking down the street towards the café. Draco brought his gaze down to his hands in his lap, a million suggestions of what to say racing through his mind.

He heard the gentle "_Tink_" of a bell on the door, signaling her entrance. She came over to his table, taking the seat opposite Draco. He glanced up as she sat, noticing her tightened grip on her wand in her pocket. He sighed. _Same old Granger, then_.

He bit his lip, still mulling over what to say. "Listen," he finally uttered after a few awkward moments of silence. "I just… I wanted to apologize. For—for everything."

Her look of shock was exactly as he expected, but she quickly pulled on a careful smile, looking into Draco's eyes. "I'm impressed."

"What's that supposed to mean." His voice was clearly unsure, but held an ounce of accusation.

"It's just that I never believed you'd be brave enough to do this—apologize, I mean. That takes a lot, and I'm glad you could say that. I wasn't sure you'd be able to change that much."

"You have no faith in me, do you?" Draco asked.

"Not too much," she giggled in return. "Is that it, then?"

"Yes—well, no. Not exactly. I've been thinking a lot about…you know, about what happened. I can't sleep most nights." He paused, assessing her expression, but she didn't seem to be surprised at this.

"I know you have no obligation to forgive me, I'm not asking for that. I'm just asking for another chance. I didn't have much choice in the beginning, but I should've changed over when I had the sense. I guess that's what I'm still trying to do now. What d'you say? Can we start fresh?" Draco looked expectantly at her, and, to his relief, saw a hint of a smile.

"I can't speak for everyone else—and I'm not sure you can win Harry and Ron over as easily—but yes," she sighed, grinning slightly. "I'll move on, give it a fresh start."

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"_**Is it really possible to tell what someone else feels?"**_

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"You can't let Weasley know. He'll be furious you're even talking to me," Draco whispered urgently as the front door opened.

"Ron doesn't control my life, it's none of his business who I talk to."

"Doesn't mean he'll be pleased to see us together, though. I should go. Tomorrow, then?" he confirmed as he grabbed his cloak.

"Of course. See you then."

x

Draco didn't know what to make of this relationship with Hermione, and he wasn't entirely sure what she thought of it either. He knew that with her, he'd actually managed to forget the tormented thoughts he'd dealt with since the war. He knew he'd never seen her quite like this before, and he wasn't entirely sure exactly what this new emotion of hers was, but he liked it.

He found it hard enough to decipher his own feelings, but figuring out her thoughts were a crypt of their own. Draco decided to play the oblivious card, assuming that she would leave him if she needed to—so many had already, he was used to it by now.

But a part of him hoped she wouldn't, and that part of him was the hardest one to figure out sometimes.

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"_**Where is there any book of the law so clear to each man as that written in his heart?"**_

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Draco knew that he was supposed to be perfectly capable with making his own way in life, with taking charge in his life and doing what he truly believed in. But it was hard. Interpreting his own thoughts was exhausting, he soon realized. He had all but given up on reliving his daunting memories of the battle, visiting them only in sleep, where he had no control. He simultaneously loved and despised the lack of power—it was familiar, but Draco was sick of the familiarity of his life.

He still held on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, some dormant part of him would one day awaken and show him how to take charge in his life. It was only when he realized how cold and distant he felt that he figured this resting part of him could be the heart.

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"_**He wants to prove to me that his love for me must not interfere with his freedom."**_

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"Hermione, are you feeling alright?" he asked, not sure he'd be able to help her either way, but it felt like the polite thing to do.

She shut her eyes, shrugging. "Ron's been a bit—odd lately. I think it's just stress from work getting to him, he's so busy lately, but… But part of me thinks it's my fault he's so upset lately. I don't think he was quite ready to get married. I mean, I know he loves me, but it can be a lot of work and—I'm sorry. I shouldn't be coming to you with all my problems." She took a gloomy look into his eyes, taking her bag and turning. "Sorry," she mumbled before leaving the café where they met every week.

"Wait—" Draco started, but it was too late. He felt like he should do all he could to help her, but he found it hard to sympathize. He laid down Muggle money for the bill and took his leave.

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"_**Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."**_

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"It's just… when we first met, I thought you'd always be the same. You'd follow your parents into whatever they did, and I didn't think I'd want that kind of constant person in my life. Sorry, you know what I mean," she said with an attempt at an exasperated sigh. "I'm just a bit shocked at your change, you know? And I appreciate it, I do. I heard somewhere, a while ago, that everyone wants to change the world, but they don't realize they need to change for that to happen. I think you've realized that. I don't even really know who you used to be," she murmured, and Draco knew she planned on continuing, but he had to get this out.

"I really don't think I know either. I mean, I'm the same person, obviously, but in so many ways, I'm not."

"—And I think I like that." She turned up to you, smiling.

"Me too."

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**A/N: ****This was my attempt at some sort of Dramione, sorry, the pairing didn't exactly come across very well… But overall, I'm rather proud of the fic so I figured I'd post it this way. I suppose it's more Draco-centric than anything else. Let me know what you thought!**


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